


All We Are

by sleepydemons



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Black Parade Tour, Casual Sex, Frerard, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydemons/pseuds/sleepydemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With MCR only half way through their year long Black Parade tour. Will a possible Frank/Mikey/Gerard love triangle become too heated? And who does Frank choose? The romantic, artistic brother, or the Way he's been attached to for so long?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first My Chemical Romance fanfiction. I'll try to post weekly, if not sooner. I'd love to hear your feedback, so please comment!
> 
> (Was previously named 'I'm incomplete'.)

The puffing, the panting. The motherfucking ache of Frank's jaw as he lifted myself from Mikey. Avoid eye-contact. Avoid eye-contact. No eye-contact is key. Frank repeated it through his mind, again and again.   
  
"Jesus, we really need to stop this." Frank, daring to look at mikey for a split second.   
  
Mikey let out a hollow laugh and relaxed into the bed more, all his tension could be seen slipping away. "Yeah."   
  
"Yeah?" Frank questioned. He knew Mikey had a tendency to agree with Frank just to shut him up until the next time he needed him...  
  
Mikey turned his head to the side to face Frank. "... Who else is gonna blow me like that for the next year of this pissing tour?" The side of his mouth twitched, a smirk playing around his features.   
  
"Is that all I provide for you?" Frank waited. No response. "all I'm worth?" Frank could feel his body stiffen, suddenly feeling vulnerable wearing only boxers, stood awkwardly towards the door. God, he felt like such a fucking girl.  
  
Mikey let out a deep sigh, "Frank. You-you know that's not true. You said you were okay with this..." Mikey paused, searching the room, then took a hard gulp. "...deal."   
  
"So when the Parade tour's over...we are too?" Frank gritted through his teeth. He pulled on his jeans back on and stared at Mikey.   
  
"Listen, it's.... complicated." He responded.   
  
"You don't think I know that?! I'm part of this relationship too, don't I get a say?" Complicated,  _complicated_ , like he thought it was anything  _but_ complicated.  
  
Mikey cringed. Not even being able to look Frank in the eye. "We're actually labelling this? Seriously. God Frank, we're so fucked."   
  
Frank's heart dropped, along with his jaw. "Why don't you come back to me when you decide to stop being such a prick?" Frank's voice cracked, he didn't care. He stormed out of the room and slammed the door.

~

"MY CHEM ON STAGE IN TWO MINUTES!" Some tan, ripped guy holding a clipboard roared through the backstage.

"Ray, hey Ray. RAY!"

"Wassup, Frank, kind of busy here." Ray sang lightly, trying to untangle a mess of what looked like amp wires.

"Pansy. I can't find Pansy!" Frank jittered, running a hand through his jet black hair. He hadn't even had time to get a wash, he truly felt gross.

"Oh, pretty sure I saw Gerard with it before." Ray spoke, still completely focused on the wires.

Gerard? What was Gerard doing with his guitar? He can't even fucking play.

Frank rushed around backstage, looking for any sight of Gerard. No luck. But then, no one could find Gerard just before a show. To be quite honest, Frank didn't see much of Gerard at all, unless of course it was during a concert or an interview. Come to think of it, Frank didn't actually notice how strange it was, until now, how strange it was that he was in a band with a guy that he's been on the road with for the best of five months, not even including the past _two_ albums, they've been in a confined trailers, random shitty hotels, even having to share a bad a couple of times, yet he hardly ever saw the older Way. Frank guessed he'd only had enough attention for the younger Way, and if Gerard was anything like Mikey, that would just be way too much to handle, especially with the complication of their relationship.

Guilt washed over Frank, but he shook it off quickly and headed to the main stage, grabbing a spare black guitar from one of the tech guys as he passed.

~

He lived for this moment. As he enters the stage. The endless stream of lights blinding him. His eyes finally adjusted, he slowly scans the huge arena, taking deep breaths as the screams echo from the sea of fans. At this point, his heart would race, like it was trying to escape his ribcage and surf across the crowd, to be battered and bruised. His whole body would ache just thinking about it. At this point he would gather his thoughts and focus on the rest of the band members. Ray would, of course, be fidling with his guitar, a frowning expression fixed on his face whenever the guitar wouldn't obey his commands. Gerard, Gerard would _always_  look out into the crowd for a long time, his expression unreadable. Bob would be tapping on his legs, his feet doing small dances as he sat, prepared. Mikey looked the most nervous. He'd have an interval of staring at his feet and sighing. He'd grip his bass as tight as he could, so much, his knickles turned white. Frank would always try to get his attention, a loving smile, even a cheeky wink, but nothing. Now it was Frank's turn to sigh.

He lived for his stage time, where he could exhaust himself into oblivion. His body became weak, but it gave him the biggest sense of pride, like he was giving his body to the audience, like he was sacrificing himself for the music. And Frank loved that. When he became exhausted from being with Mikey, all he felt was disappointment, used, not good enough, ugly. Stage time was where he could become whoever he wanted, he could use his energy for good.

But before he knew it, stage time was over, and he'd be left backstage, battling with his own thoughts. Usually he'd go back to the tour bus, or hotel room and just drown himself in the strongest alcohol available. But he fucking needed Pansy. He missed her. As soon as he left the stage, Gerard was already nowhere to be seen. He asked some of the guys if they'd came across him, each as clueless as the other.  

Finally their tour manager, Brian, let Frank know the usual spots he finds Gerard hiding.

~

Frank found Gerard, finally, in an adandoned dressing room, no light but a dim lamp that could do with a good clean. Gerard was slouched on a bare mattress, his clumped hair covering his face, still sleek with sweat, due to his performance. He held a chewed paper cup in his hand, Frank's guess was that the contents were black coffee.

"Dude, how do you drink that shit right after stage?" Frank laughed lightly, breaking the silence that made Frank's ears hurt.

Gerard jumped, much to Frank's surprise, he just guessed Gerard was being an ignorant son of a bitch, or in his own world.

"What?" Gerard asked, looking extremely puzzled, then looked down at his steaming cup. "Oh, yeah. What can I say? Black like my soul. I'm addicted." Gerard smiled warily, looking back down into his lap.

"Well, uh, sorry to interrupt... Ray said you had Pans-, err, my guitar?"

Gerard stiffened, his eyes focused on Frank. Frank stared back into them. Clueless. He'd never noticed before, but Gerard's eyes were nothing like Mikey's. They were so much _more,_ like they had a whole other depth to them.They were much darker, probably the same kind of glassy brown colour as the coffee he was drinking. Yet they seemed warmer, but still as troubled, if not more, as Mikey's.

"Right, yeah, sorry." Gerard breathed. "I was meaning to put her back... Here." Gerard reached behind the door and produced Pansy, as beautiful as ever.

"Hey, it's no trouble. As long as she's back in one piece." Frank gave Gerard a mischievous wink, feeling like a fucking idiot right after. Gerard just smiled. "What were you doing with her.... If you don't mind my asking?"

Gerard placed his worn paper cup on the floor, running his fingers through his hair and started searching around the drab room. After a few silent minutes of Gerard practically turning the room upside down and Frank awkwardly humming to himself, Gerard produced a small tattered sketchbook. "Here we are." Gerard sighed, his tongue stucj out in concentration as he flicked to a certain page in the book.

He shoved it eagerly to Frank's chest, then quickly rushed back to his coffee and took a large gulp, his eyes never tearing away from frank.

Frank stared at the small page. He stared of it for what felt like hours. He couldn't quite fathom what he was looking at, yet it made complete sense.

Frank looked up a Gerard, raising an eyebrow. 

Gerard's smug grin suddenly switched to a frown. He scratched his head irritably. "You don't like it?"

"No, no! It's fantastic, it's... beautiful. Its just, what _is_ it?" 

"It's whatever you want it to be. Personally, for me, I think it's energy." Gerard smiled at the floor, a smile that Frank could only guess to recognise it as nostalgia. "Our energy, as a band. Sometimes I need a possession to bring out what I want in my art piece. Pansy fit the job well."

Frank looked down at the drawing again. It looked like guitar strings. Soaked in blood. All knotted like barbed wire. It was amazing to look at, Frank understood why he'd use Pansy. Pansy had been part of stage-Frank since the second album came out, he grew an attatchment to her that he wouldn't have with any human. Frank admired Gerard for seeing what Pansy meant to him. A rush of guilt surged through Frank, so much so, he shivered. Gerard had noticed such a personal detail about Frank, and Frank hadn't even noticed Gerard at all.

Goosebumps trailed up Frank's arms. He handed Gerard the sketchbook and frowned. "Why don't we talk much?"

Gerard blinked, his expression confused. "You seem rather busy with Mikey most of the time. And when you're alone, you seem... sad. But I don't know" He mumbled the last part so it was bearly audible.

Great, more guilt.

"Mikey's a handful, you should know." Frank laughed emptily.

"I do." Gerard sighed, shaking his head playfully and giggled.

Frank beamed at Gerard. Gerard's giggle was so child-like. So full of life, his smile filled his face with happiness, and Frank loved it.

"I know... By the way." Gerard spoke hollowly. "About you and Mikey." Gerard broke eye contact and sat back down on the mattress, leaning back against the crumbling wall.

"Oh?" Frank responded. His face blank. This was starting to get uncomfortable. Was he shocked? Ashamed? Maybe the Way brothers had more in common than he first thought.

Gerard chuckled quietly. "You have like, a sex deal, right?" His eyes squinted, he plucked at a hole in his black jeans.

"Right." Frank laughed bluntly.

"Personally," Gerard sighed, finally looking up to Frank, who was still stook awkwardly in the middle of the room, gripping Pansy with all his strength. "I don't understand how you guys do that... Not the _sex_ , I mean, just, hm..."

Frank nodded his head, spurring Gerard to continue.

"Okay. Well, you're with each other 24/7 for the rest of the year. How can you do that and carry on joking around, being friends, band members... Without it _meaning_ anything? I certainly couldn't do that. But hey, don't listen to the hopeless romantic." Gerard rushed, glancing at Frank, but quickly fixing his eyes back to the cup of coffee.

"I..." Frank paused, he had no idea what he was supposed to say back to that.

Fuck, Frank thought. It was like Gerard was reading his mind here. Maybe he and Mikey weren't 'written in the stars', maybe it wouldn't even last after the tour finished. But for now, he was putting his passion into Mikey, and you can't expect no feelings to arise from that. Mikey couldn't expect Frank to just be a fucking... sex object.

"I'm very opinionated, I am sorry. Please ignore what I said I-"

"You're right." Frank interrupted, he looked Gerard straight in the eyes. "After the first few months, I just automatically thought we were an 'us'. Then as soon as I found out Mikey didn't want that I just. I needed to be selfish, to get whatever I _could_  from him."

Gerard stood up, placing the now empty cup down. "I'm gonna let you in on a little secret." The older Way moved closer to him and waited for Frank's slow, suspicious nod before he continiued. "Mikey's a bastard." Gerard whispered, leaning back to give Frank a sloppy smile.

Frank burst out laughing. Like, seriously, he couldn't stop. He couldn't _breathe_. It probably wouldn't even have been that funny if it wasn't for the situation. "Thanks man, that's really quite helpful."

And that moment, Frank realised the next six months of tour wouldn't be so lonely after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Anna who gave me a sweet idea of how Frank and Gerard could bond. (I get writers block pretty much every few hours.) Also, sorry this chapter is slow paced. The next will be more centered around Gerard, promise.

It was only after a few days Frank got to see Gerard again. They'd stopped off for gas half way through their journey and had been surprisingly ahead of schedule. Frank decided he really should get some air and sneak a cigarette. After all, he'd been in that trailer for 5 hours and there's only so much of Ray Toro's theory on why Gibson is the ultimate brand for a guitarist that one man can take, along with a vile case of motion sickness, Frank had never been more thankful to be outdoors.

He hummed his way through the isles of the convenience store. When Frank reached the fridges, he was welcomed by a shelf of whiskey, licking his lips at the sight. But his better judgement told him at 8 in the morning, maybe wasn't such a good idea - instead, opening the next fridge along and grabbing a can of diet coke. As he paid the man at the counter who, believe it or not, was considerably shorter than himself, and had a beard that would put Bob's to shame, Frank stared blankly out of the window, wondering where the hell they even were. It was typical of Frank, after the first couple of concerts, he'd just gave up trying to keep track of where they were headed next. His eyes averted to a weathered bench, where he noticed Gerard sat with his back against the window, slightly hunched over, like he was jotting something down.

Once again, Frank found himself just standing idly in Gerard's presence. "Hey."

The other man stopped writing immediately, but didn't bother to look up. "Mikey's in the restroom." He paused momentarily, staring at the ground, then went back to scribbling down notes. His voice was only a mumble, so monotone that Frank could have mistaken Gerard for a robot.

"Interesting." Frank replied, trying to match Gerard's slightly impressive tone. "What's in the pad?"

Still, Gerard didn't lift his head. Frank could see his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he wrote. "I'm songwriting. Or at least _trying_." He spat out the last word, making Frank feel uncomfortable and a little like an interference.

And with that, Frank left and walked back onto the bus.

~

"Hey, Mikey. Why doesn't Gerard ever share our trailer on the road? That some pretty diva-ish shit."

Mikey lifted his head from under the pillow, raising a single eyebrow. "Not sure. I think I remember him saying to Toro one time that he likes to go over what the crew have planned for every show, y'know, making sure they meet his standards." Mikey laughed. "I feel sorry for them, man, once Gerard starts talking, he never stops."

"What's your relationship like?" He had no idea why he had just asked that, he really was simply curious about the guy.

"What's with all the questions?" Frank shrugged lightly and smiled, feeling Mikey start to become defensive. 

Mikey relaxed back down onto the pillow and faced Frank. "I guess you could say it's good? I mean, he brought me up, he was my hero. He's the whole reason I decided to get off my ass and learn bass. We'd decided on being in a band together since we were kids." Mikey stretched his arms and lifted himself from the bed. "He's been different lately. Like, where the fuck does he go? It's not like we can have a conversation on stage is it? God, he just has these huge withdrawals from _life_. I thought after he gave up drinking, that sort of behaviour would stop - days on end where you wouldn't even get a call from him, because he was wasted and forgot what city he was in."

Mikey gave Frank a quick glance and continued. "Shit, how are we even still a band right now? It's all down to him. He pulled the wreckage back together. I'm afraid he might end up breaking it all over again."

Frank felt a lump grow in his throat, where had he been when all this was going down? He'd never felt like such a useless asshole in his life. He had been aware that Gerard had a drinking problem, but it never really went into Frank's concerns. He just thought it was how he dealt with stage fright, or whatever. He drank like a fish himself, it was never really something out of the ordinary, now, was it? He remembered seeing Mikey frantic about Gerard's disappearances, and frankly, the first few were terrifying. Mikey so weak and worried like that... It broke Frank's heart. But they all just got used to it. They would eventually find Gerard and they would play on. It had been simple in Frank's mind. Shit, no wonder Gerard had been so 'off' with him. He'd ignored this guy for the best of five years and suddenly he's all friendly? ... Fuck.

~

The show was average. Frank just stood in the same spot for most of the performance, putting approximately 2% of his energy into his guitar. He just wasn't in his zone tonight. He thought heavily throughout the concert... About Mikey and his complete refusal to talk to Frank about their relationship for more than five minutes. He also wondered how many was in the audience. It looked pretty full, most of them pushing and squeezing to get to the front, their arms reaching out as far as they could go, reminding Frank of the zombie herds he'd witnessed in all the countless apocalyptic movies he had watched in his life. But mostly, he thought about how sick to his stomach he felt when he looked over to Gerard. Which he felt pretty fucking stupid about, to say the least.

After the show, they all decided to go out and get some pizza. And for the first time in Frank's entire life, the thought of it made him gag.

"Are you sure you don't want to come? We'll be out a while.. I mean, you haven't eaten anything since this morning. It's not like you to turn down free food." Ray's face was etched with concern and his voice was the tone of a worried mother. A rush of nostalgia ran through him, gone as quick as it came, leaving Frank feeling only _more_ sluggish than only a moment ago.

"Really, Toro, I'll be fine. That show just really took it out of me, y'know? I'll just chill in the trailer. Who knows, I might be lucky enough to get more than an hours sleep." Frank spoke, forcing himself to smile up at Ray, who still looked rather apprehensive about leaving Frank behind.

"You're quite a frightening shade of pale." Ray laughed weakly and nudged Frank, who felt like he would pass out at any given moment.

Bob popped his head from behind the door where he was waiting for Ray. "Come on, Toro. He's a grown man. I'm fucking dying of hunger over here."

"Well... if you're sure. Call me if you change your mind."

"Will do." Frank replied a little over enthusiastically and waved them both off, closing the door and sighing as soon as Ray stopped turning back in doubt. Frank moved back over to the sofa on threw himself down, crashing one of the cushions over his head.

~

He lied there in silence for at least an hour, keeping his eyes closed and wishing sleep to creep upon him. It never did. He gave up and shoved his limp body upright, grabbing Pansy from where she had been abandoned on the floor. Frank ran his fingers lightly against the strings. He started to pluck at them separately and carelessly, the room echoing with the pangs of each strings, making his head ache so much more. He groaned and closed his eyes tightly, rubbing them forcefully. He tried again, but this time keeping his eyes closed, not bothering to go searching for a spare pick. He ignored every single sound he was creating, concentrating sorely on the strings and silences between.

When he opened his eyes, satisfied with himself, Gerard was stood closely to the door, like he couldn't decide whether he wanted to stay or leave. His eyes widened as soon as he realised Frank had noticed him. "Sorry to interrupt. It was not my intention." Gerard spoke slowly. "Can I come in?"

Frank snickered and nodded. "You kind of already are."

Still, Gerard stood silently for a second, looking like he was weighing his options, then closed the door and cautiously walked over to Frank.

"How come you didn't want to come with us for pizza? Ray said you looked terrible. No offence, but he was right." Gerard whispered, probably coming to the conclusion that Frank had a headache, which Frank appreciated. Gerard sat down next to him and ran a hand through his raven black hair. His whole body looked rigid and awkward and kept looking over to the door, like he was going to bolt any moment.

"I don't know, what excuses have you been using for the past six months?" As soon as Frank said it he regretted it, but he was too tired to even apologize, another to go on the list of reasons why Frank is a bastard.

But Gerard just smiled widely. "Usually I hide so they can't find me." laughing as he spoke, making Frank smile too, he actually felt his headache start to simmer down.

"I liked your melody."

Frank looked up at him, completely oblivious to what he had just played. "Thanks?" He noticed the black smudges all around his eyes, some even tracing down his cheek, probably ran from the heat of the performance.

"Actually," Gerard lifted himself from the sofa slightly, pulling the infamous pad from his back pocket. "it's gonna help me a tonne."

Gerard shot up from the sofa and frantically rushed round the trailer, pulling draws open and rummaging through bags.

"Dude, what are you doing?"

Gerard didn't reply, only shoving his arm deeper into one of the bags sprawled out on the floor. "Aha!" Gerard rushed up from his knees and spun around to face Frank, grasping a pen proudly.

He paced back over to Frank and took his seat, picking his pad back up, eagerly, and started writing messily onto the first page he opened. "I've been having trouble..." Gerard paused, clearly engrossed in his writing. he fixed a clump of hair behind his ear and after a couple of minutes of continuous writing, Gerard finally let the pen and pad fall onto his lap. He looked rather pleased with himself. "... with writing." he shook his head. "Songwriting." Gerard corrected. "That melody, it's gave me something to work on,  _finally!_ " Gerard was practically beaming at this point. Which Frank was pleased to notice that it made him feel slightly less crap.

"Actually, that's why I came. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted earlier." Gerard rushed his words out, his beam dimmed down. "I get so frustrated when I can't get my ideas out and onto paper. But recently, it's like I haven't even had any concepts or inspirations to write." Gerard spoke so solemnly, Frank felt bad for the guy, he was the magic behind the band, he had a lot on his shoulders. And Frank understood that, he really did. He'd never hold a silly outburst against Gerard, not after all he'd _not_ done for the other man. Frank really hadn't considered there'd be another album after Parade. He hadn't thought why, he just didn't see much of a future. Or maybe he just refused to think about it.

"And now you do." Frank spoke slowly, trying to sound the least bit boastful.

Gerard glaned at Frank and smiled warmly. "And now I do."


End file.
